


Keep Me Warm (It's Cold Without You)

by Tahlruil



Series: Loving You Is Easy (It's Life That's Hard) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stony Bingo, Stony Bingo 2017, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark-centric, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 21:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10907931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tahlruil/pseuds/Tahlruil
Summary: In which Steve Rogers doesnotcome to his senses, and Tony has to find a way to deal with the anxiety he's been trying to hide... and figure out how to convince Steve that they really should have a cat.For the 'sharing a bed' prompt.





	Keep Me Warm (It's Cold Without You)

**Author's Note:**

> This one... got a bit angstier than I meant it too in the middle. XD But they end up cuddling and happy, so no regrets I suppose. :'D
> 
> Still super in love with this 'verse and now it's taken over half the squares in my Stony Bingo card - I do so hope I can get them all written in time. Next up is 'First Time', which I shooould have posted in the next day or so.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and please leave me comments? <3

“We’re sorry to lose you, Steve. You’ve become one of our favorite tenants.”

“And I’ve loved living here. But it’s time to move on.”

Tony looked up in time to catch the look Steve sent in his direction. Nobody had _ever_ looked at him the way Steve Rogers did, like he was the world and everything good in it. Knowing he’d start to blush (the horror) if he didn’t look away from that loving gaze, he turned his attention back to his hands… which were busy carefully rolling a ball of yarn under the tutting instruction of the old woman sitting next to him.

She was at _least_ six hundred years old, and smelled like toffee and the same cigarettes his mother had smoked when she wanted to look glamorous. Tony hadn’t caught her name – he guessed it would be something awful like ‘Ethel’ or ‘Maude’ – and she was related, somehow, to Steve’s landlord. Soon to be ex-landlord, so long as the small blond didn’t come to his senses in the next half hour or so.

Tony didn’t need to be here for this – he knew it and so did Steve. But after he’d spent all of breakfast promising the blond that it would be fine if he changed his mind or that they could keep the apartment just in case for a few months if Steve wanted or if he decided he wanted his own bedroom in the Tower after all Tony could still make that happen, Steve had leveled an _extremely_ unimpressed look at him. That had gotten Tony to stop babbling, and he’d been invited to tag along so he wouldn’t spend all day worrying. It was actually a really good idea, because he’d have been a mess if he’d tried to wait this out in the ‘shop or at SI. Even sitting and _watching_ Steve give up his apartment, Tony was sure that at any second Steve would realize how big a mistake this was.

He’d remember how much crazy existed in the Tower and in Tony’s life in general, and want to tap out. Or maybe it’d be Tony’s forgetfulness, or the way he sometimes disappeared into the ‘shop for a day or three, or maybe the fame (or infamy) that would come from being linked with him would finally sink in, and Steve’d realize he didn’t need or want that in his life. Maybe it would be Tony’s anxiety that drove him off, or maybe his constant need for reassurance, or any number of other things. There were so many reasons for Steve _not_ to move in with him; Tony was struggling to come up with even one reason it was a good idea.

So even though he was practically vibrating with nervous energy, being on the couch with Methuselah’s grandmother clucking her tongue at him was better than being at SI, wondering. At least here, Steve could send him reassuring looks and Tony was hearing verbal proof that this was really happening. Once those keys were turned over, he and Steve would be _living together_. Officially. Officially in a ‘we have to notify the Post Office’ kind of way. In a ‘if Tony Stark fucks this up Steve will be homeless’ kind of way.

God he hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

“Such a good boy,” the woman cooed at him as she took the ball of yarn he hadn’t realized he’d finished from his hands. She immediately handed him the end of another color, and he had to fight back a sigh of irritation. Tony didn’t _want_ to be dealing with yarn or old people; he wanted to be sitting by Steve so he could tangle their fingers together and maybe sneak a few kisses. That would settle the roiling emotions in his chest a lot better than fiddling with string. But when the crypt keeper’s girlfriend called you a ‘good boy’ and asked for help, what could you do? So he started the process over again, trying not to smile as she kept correcting him. She was awful picky about her yarn – he’d never known before that you could roll it _wrong_.

“Are you okay here with Myrtle while we head out?” _Myrtle_ – just as horrible as he’d – wait. He was pretty sure he looked like a deer in headlights as he gazed up into Steve’s smiling face, which was suddenly a lot closer than it had been before. When had he come over here? And he was… leaving?

“What?”

“Final inspection,” Steve answered gently, eyes soft and full of understanding. “John needs to make sure all those wild, crazy parties I threw didn’t destroy the place. It’ll take twenty minutes max – you okay here with Myrtle?”

“I. Um. Yes? Twenty minutes you said? Then you’ll be back? Sure. That’s… it’s twenty minutes is what it is. Totally fine and not at all a problem. Definitely. Myrtle and I have yarn going on here, so we’re good. More than good. Just twenty minutes?”

“At the most.” Steve leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the lips, which soothed some of his nervousness. But the landlord liked Steve – what if he talked the blond into changing his mind? That would be _awful_ , because even if there was nothing good in it for Steve, Tony selfishly wanted them to live together. Things were better when Steve was there. “Promise. Twenty minutes and then I’ll be back. I’m not going to change my mind, and we’re going to leave here together, okay? Watch after him for me, will ya Myrtle?”

“Shush now Steven – you’re distracting him. Come on dearie, unwind that last bit and try again. There’s a good boy.” Chuckling quietly, Steve leaned in for another kiss, this one longer and full of promise, and then he was left to the tender care of Myrtle the Yarn Tyrant. As they waited, Tony managed to tidy up three more colors and Myrtle was telling him some fascinating stories about her pets.

“I want a cat,” he informed his boyfriend as soon as he walked back into the office. “Maybe two so they won’t be lonely.”

“… we’ll talk about it with JARVIS.”

“I don’t need his _permission_ , Steve.”

“No, but he’d be the one who ends up monitoring a lot of things and making sure they don’t get on the elevators and stuff. So we should get his opinion.”

“But what’s _your_ opinion?”

“That we should talk to JARVIS.”

“Babe…”

“Thanks for keeping him busy, Myrtle.”

“He’s a good boy,” the woman said yet again, taking the current ball of yarn from him. Once she had, she reached into her huge, straw purse and dug out a hard candy. As soon as she unwrapped it, Tony could smell it was butterscotch – he _hated_ butterscotch. Much to his horror, she didn’t lift it to her mouth but to his own, clearly expecting him to open up so she could pop it in. She’d been sweet and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings… so he did. It took everything he had not to make a face and spit it out. When she beamed at him and lightly patted his cheek, he decided it was worth it.

Steve, Tony noted when he looked over to the blond, was hiding laughter behind one hand. His blue eyes were sparkling with mirth and his shoulders were shaking with the effort to keep quiet. He knew exactly how Tony felt about butterscotch, the beautiful little demon. Later he would seek his revenge.

“Well! Everything is in order Steve. Here’s a check for your full deposit back, and then I just need your keys.”

John’s interruption had stopped Steve’s silent laughter, and Tony felt his nerves gearing up again. This was it – this was when Steve would change his mind. He’d look at Tony and realize this was a mistake and he’d call everything off. The scene played over and over in his head, getting a little worse every time until it ended with Steve pointing out all his flaws, laughing as he dumped him then riding off into the sunset with his fabulous landlord John.

What actually happened was far less dramatic and a lot more amazing. Steve handed over his keys, took the check and then shook hands with John. Tony kept blinking and pinching himself, pretty sure this was all a dream. He hadn’t woken up by the time Steve hugged Myrtle and said goodbye, or by the time they were walking out the door hand in hand.

When Tony spit the awful, horrible butterscotch candy out, it was at the feet of a guy who was giving them the stink eye and muttering about ‘the gays’. Steve doubled over laughing when the guy – who’d been swearing up a blue streak and approaching them threateningly – suddenly became studiously polite when a glowering Happy eased out of their car and put himself between the jerk and Tony. He decided it was all too ridiculous and he was too happy for this to be a dream. That meant it was real, and now… now they officially lived together.

~.~.~

The first time they’d slept together, sharing a bed was the last thing on Tony’s mind. It had been a really, really bad day for Steve’s asthma, and he’d struggled all day long for breath. He’d refused to go to the doctor or, later when Tony was panicking just a little, to the hospital. Listening to Steve wheeze and fight just to breath had been one of the more awful experiences of his life. Finally, at his wits end, he’d ignored one of Steve’s decrees and called Bucky. He’d been the one to suggest they get in bed, with Tony sitting against the headboard and Steve sitting and leaning back against _him_.

It had helped quite a bit, and they stayed that way late into the night. Steve showed Tony how to rub his chest to soothe away some of the ache, and how to help him hold his inhaler when he needed it but couldn’t manage it all by himself. Eventually Steve’s breathing eased and they both fell asleep, Tony more relieved and reassured than he could say by the steady, _quiet_ rise and fall of Steve’s chest. They’d woken up in a warm tangle of limbs, and it had been one of the best, most relaxed mornings he’d ever had. Despite that, it took him a while to broach the subject with Steve… and it had actually been the blond who broke the ice once Tony’d gotten too twitchy and he’d noticed.

Sharing a bed wasn’t about sex or getting closer to sex – he’d been afraid Steve wouldn’t believe him when he said that. Tony just liked being curled around Steve or having Steve wrapped around him. It was the closeness and the connection that he craved; thankfully Steve agreed. After that conversation, they’d slept together (or at least in the same building) more often than not. It hadn’t been anything that required thought or any kind of production. Falling into bed together was natural and easy, and actually doing it had never caused Tony any anxiety.

Now that they _lived_ together? He was freaking out just a little. Or a lot. A whole bunch. There was quite a bit of freaking. Much freaking and pacing and wondering how dead Pepper would kill him if he called her at eleven o’clock at night to ask for relationship advice.

God, he _was_ going to fuck this up.

~.~.~

Tony liked variables – he really did. Math was the most beautiful language that existed, both endlessly complex and elegant in its simplicity. Variables and possibilities were incredibly attractive to him. Solving ridiculously long and difficult equations was better than most of the orgasms he’d had, so yeah – variables were good.

Unless those variables related to _people_ , because that was a language Tony had a hard time grasping. Over the years he’d gotten a little better, mostly thanks to the tireless efforts of his platypus and Mama Rhodes. More recently Pepper had begun to help him translate, and Steve was remarkably patient with his bumbling efforts to speak and understand human. Still, when there were too many variables, Tony tended to panic and retreat to the safety of his workshop and math.

So that was where Steve came to find him at three-thirty that morning. Tony couldn’t help but wince when he felt thin arms slide around his waist, because he was sure he was in for a reprimand. Then a much-beloved chin settled on his left shoulder and the silence between them continued. Once he had his boyfriend draped comfortably over his back, Tony continued to brace himself for a scolding… but it never came. After a couple of minutes, the silence began to feel comfortable, and the tension inside of him slowly began to unwind, letting him breathe a bit easier and think a little more clearly. It was when Steve start to shiver that he pulled his attention completely away from the equation he’d been playing with – he didn’t like it when the blond was uncomfortable. With all the tech running hot in the room, Tony kept his ‘shop noticeably colder than the rest of the tower, and Steve could only take the temperature drop for so long.

 _Especially_ when he was only in a t-shirt, thin pajama pants and bare feet. On seeing how the man was dressed, Tony couldn’t stop a soft sound of distress from escaping. He pulled Steve into his lap – the tiny, feisty man tucked himself there neatly and made sure his feet were clear of the floor. That meant Tony could wheel his stool over to the couch where a thick, comfortable afghan waited – unbidden, he wondered if Myrtle had knitted it, because it had come into his life when Steve. did

Both of them had yet to speak by the time Tony had moved them to the couch and gotten the blanket wrapped snugly around them. Steve was completely covered except for his head, and Tony was gently running his hands up and down the man’s arms to help him warm up. They had to talk, and he knew that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to start the conversation because he didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know which variables Steve needed, which ones would actually help him understand. He didn’t know which ones would fix this, and which ones would make it worse.

“I know you want me here,” Steve started quietly, because he was a wonderfully patient Saint – at least when it came to handling him. “And you were fine all through the dinner you cooked, which was amazing and I thought we were having fun. So I’m try’n ta figure out why you never came ta bed, but I’m batting zero sweetheart. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to stop sleeping with you.” Shit. That was _not_ going to be a helpful variable to start off with.

Steve was quiet for a handful of seconds, probably trying to puzzle through the asinine thing he’d just blurted out. “I’m trying to get from A to Z here Tony, but I’m missing a lot of letters.” Steve couldn’t talk math to him, but he tried to get as close as he could, and that meant the world.

“I just… things change, once you live with someone. Don’t they? Pep said… I knew a lot of what she told me, honest. I’m a genius for Tesla’s sake, so some of the basic concepts I had already. Being more considerate and making sure the space is ‘ours’ so you feel like more than a guest, I knew all that. But she also said that our routines would probably change, because that’s one of the things that just does, even if you don’t really mean it too. And so she got me thinking about that stuff, because she said it was important to think about.” He was glad Pepper’d given him some of the words to be using here. It would have taken him tons of babbling to get it all out completely on his own.

Tony was pretty sure Steve wasn’t cold anymore, so he was almost completely sure the shiver he gave wasn’t real. But it _did_ encourage Tony to draw him closer, which started to unravel the ball of anxiety he’d been carrying in his chest. Steve was _amazing_ , Tony decided for the millionth time, burying his nose in messy blond hair.

“And I know Mama Rhodes sleeps with her husband, so I guess not all married couples sleep separately. Not that we’re married! I know we’re not and that we talked about waiting, so that’s not… fuck. That’s not the problem. It’s not a marriage thing, and it’s not a sex thing, I promise.”

“Why would I think it’s a sex thing?”

“I know that’s why my parents didn’t sleep together, hell once I moved out they didn’t even sleep in the same _wing_ and Jarvis – human Jarvis, not Jay – loved Ana a whole bunch but they had two beds too, and so do a lot of couples I know, and a lot of them started out sleeping together but then things _changed_ , and things for us just changed, and, and…”

“Tony, hey hey hey. Breathe, okay? Take a deep breath for me… good.” Steve was the best at talking to him about breathing; he figured it was the asthma thing. “We’re not your parents or the Jarvis’ or all those other couples you know. And we’re not the Rhodes’ either, even though they’re a lot better model of a relationship, in my opinion. We’re us. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“So it doesn’t matter what all of them do or did, because we’ll do what’s right for us.”

“But things are supposed to _change_ when you live together. Plus, now… how do we do it? Do I need to go to bed _with_ you every night? Can I work late and join you later? What if you’re in the studio – can I wait for you or do I have to go to sleep? What if I’m having a bad night – am I allowed to sleep down here so I don’t bother you? And changing – do we change in the bathroom, or does one of us keep the bedroom, because I know you’re not ready to share naked time and that’s fine, but how does it _work_ now that we only have one bedroom? Do we brush our teeth at the same time, because I think that’s weird but we have the two sinks in the bathroom, and… and… and I’m being stupid, aren’t I? Fuck.” Tightening his hold on Steve, he shifted to hide his face in the man’s shoulder, irritated and frustrated with himself. “Sorry babe. Couldn’t even make it a goddamned day before I ruined it.”

“Hey – you didn’t ruin anything.” Steve soothed, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. It felt nice, but he was pretty damn sure he didn’t deserve it, because he was _such_ an idiot. He could feel the tension inside of him turning tighter again, which served him right. Steve shouldn’t be so nice to him all the time, because he was a disaster. If it weren’t for Tony being so _Tony_ , the blond would be sleeping peacefully, not down here comforting a crazy person.

“You’re not crazy.” Shit, had he been talking out loud? “Tony, it’s okay. Everything’s fine, and you didn’t ruin anything. I swear, sweetheart, it’s fine. _We’re_ fine. How long have you been freaking out about this?”

“… dunno.”

“Tony.”

“Couple days?”

“ _Tony_. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because… I thought maybe if you knew you’d think I didn’t want you here, and that would be the reason you changed your mind, because you could do so much better than me, so I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want you here because I do, Steve, I want you here so goddamn much, but I just didn’t know… I’ve never really _lived_ with anyone before in a non-dorm or school capacity. And before you my only _real_ relationship was with Angela and sure she stayed over all the time, but it wasn’t an **official** thing, and so stuff changed when that started but not really and she could take little breaks in her own dorm when she needed to, and I know stuff’ll change between us in a way it didn’t with me and her, but I didn’t know what, and it _is_ kind of different, sleeping together now that we live together, so I just… I…”

“You got scared.”

“Yeah.”

“And you hid in math instead of talking to me about it.”

“Yeah. Sorry Steve.”

“It’s… not okay, but only because you got yourself all wound up and anxious about something-”

“ _Stupid_.”

“No, about something we could have just talked over and figured out pretty easily.”

“I just didn’t… I didn’t know what variables you needed, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you or give you too much or too little, so I just…”

“Let it fester and got more and more wound up.”

“I’d rather me get all ‘wound up’ than upset you with trivial shit.”

“This isn’t trivial or shit, Tony. Even if it was, I’d want to know. I like knowing what you’re thinking.”

“Stuff like this is why you won’t marry me, huh?”

“One: you never actually asked, and two: we’re not ready – either of us. I love you and I’m happy we’re living together, but marriage is just… too big a step for now. _For now_ , Tony, not forever. But let’s talk about why you were hiding down here, okay? Some stuff will change, you – and Pepper – were right about that. But we can still sleep together. I never wanted that to stop, and it can stay exactly the same, alright? So before… did I mind if you weren’t ready to sleep when I was?”

“… no.”

“Was I upset if you waited for me to sleep or ended up wanting to sleep alone for a night or two even though I don’t mind your nightmares waking me up?”

“No.”

“Okay, so that’s all that settled. As far as changing goes, we both have our own closets, right? And my closet is bigger than my old bedroom was, Tony. I can just change in there until I’m ready to share ‘naked time’. If brushing our teeth at the same time freaks you out, then we just won’t. Alright?”

“… yes?”

“What part are you having trouble with Tony?” From just about anyone else, the question would have felt condescending and impatient. From Steve though, it was gentle and understanding, and invited him to share.

“I… it really won’t be any different?”

“Doesn’t have to be, no. We could make it different, but I don’t really want to. I think what we’ve been doing works for us, even if other people might not want to do it the same way. Do you want to change it?”

“No.”

“Great; we’re on the same page about that then. So it won’t change, because _we_ don’t want it to. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I guess not.”

“Feel better?”

“Yeah. Sorry for not just talking to you.”

“Just try to remember that you can, okay? And when I freak out and hide in my studio, promise that you’ll come and find me.”

“Always. I’ll always come find you.”

“And I’ll always come find you. Now that we live together, it’ll be even easier to find each other, so that’s nice.”

“Yeah. I hated your old bed.”

“I know you did.”

“You wouldn’t let me buy you a better one.”

“Nope.”

“Ours now is better.”

“Yeah, it is. So can we head up to it?”

“Ya gonna whack me if I carry ya?” Steve started to laugh, like he always did when Tony tried to imitate the accent that bled into Steve’s voice every so often. Overwhelmed with love for the man tucked into his lap, he leaned down and captured his mouth. For a couple seconds, Steve kept laughing into the kiss, which was always a strange sensation when it happened. Then he got with the program and slotted his lips perfectly against Tony’s. The kiss was long and deep, and it unraveled the last of the anxiety that had been tangled in his chest for the last few days.

“I’ll let ya carry me just this once,” Steve murmured against his mouth when the kiss eventually (unfortunately) ended. His face was flushed and there was the slightly dazed look in his eyes that always made Tony feel kind of smug. Any time his boyfriend worried that they weren’t having sex and that Tony might want _more_ , Tony just kissed him until that look showed up and then whispered that seeing Steve like that was more than enough. It was, and it always would be, even if Steve never wanted to go any further with physical intimacy.

“Then hold on, babe. It’s time to go to bed.” Blue eyes rolled at him, but they were full of fondness and Steve was smiling sweetly, so he didn’t mind so much. Getting up off the couch without setting Steve down took a bit of doing and enough swearing that the blond started to laugh at him again. Eventually he managed though, and with Steve in his arms he walked to the elevator where the door opened without him saying anything. “Thanks Jay. Take us up to the penthouse?”

“Of course, Sir.”

~.~.~

Climbing into bed with Steve after he’d changed into pajama bottoms and a tank was like coming _home_. It was a feeling he hadn’t gotten a lot in his life. When Ana or Mama Rhodes hugged him, when Jarvis had given him looks full of pride or when Rhodey called him ‘brother’ he felt it. But crawling under the covers and having his sleepy boyfriend immediately scoot into his arms? That was the feeling of home to the max; it was the difference between a spark and being electrocuted. Only in a good way because being electrocuted typically ended in death and while being with Steve made his heart pound and his chest tighten it was something that made him feel alive, not dead.

“Time for the brain to shut off,” Steve muttered into his neck, poking a bony finger into his stomach at the same time. “Think you can manage?”

“I’d manage better if we had a cat. If we had a cat, she’d be curled up by our heads purring. That would make sleep awesome.”

“If we had a cat, she’d probably be yowling at the door or pouncing on your toes, Tony. Cats aren’t all purring and snuggles.”

“Then I’ll make a robot cat that _will_ be all purrs and snuggles.”

“You do that – tomorrow. No making schematics in your head right now, sweetheart. It’s time to sleep.”

“Alright. I’ll turn my brain off.” Easier said than done, really, but Tony’d try for Steve. He’d do _anything_ for Steve. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Generally Tony was the ‘big spoon’ of their relationship. With Steve being both pocket-sized and cold all the time, it just worked out that way. He loved it – loved having the blond in his arms, sleeping and content and safe – and he loved that Steve could let down his prickly, defensive nature enough to be cuddled by him. A mere suggestion that he was small or delicate was enough to set him bristling and ready to throw a punch most of the time. Alone in the dark with Tony, he was far more willing to let Tony treat him like the precious treasure he was. But as much as he loved and looked forward to sleeping with Steve’s back pressed to his chest and his leg thrown over both of Steve’s to keep them warm, he loved when the opposite happened just as much – maybe even more.

So when Steve mumbled ‘roll over’, pushing at his chest, Tony did it with a smile and a fluttering feeling in his heart and stomach. He curled up a little and Steve curled his body around his own much like the cat Tony wanted would probably do. Yeah he was a little short, so his face ended up smushed between Tony’s shoulder blades and his freezing toes ended up seeking refuge between Tony’s calves, but that was alright. It was absolutely fine, because he got Steve’s arm wrapped tightly around him and Steve’s hand pressed against his heart. He got to feel like he was being taken care of, something that had been so, _so_ rare in his life before Steve. 

Sharing a bed with Steve Rogers was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and he hated knowing that he’d almost missed this moment. He’d almost let his anxiety and his inability to speak human ruin their first night together as a couple that _officially_ lived together. From now on he had to do better, had to remember to at least try to talk to Steve before he ran away and hid. Losing this – losing the way Steve’s breath made a spot on the back of his shirt damp, or the feel of pointy, sharp elbows and knees digging into his muscles, or the chills he got from ice-cold fingers and toes, or the way he almost never had nightmares when he was wrapped up in warmth and safety and _Steve_ – would kill him. It would kill him in a way that losing Angela hadn’t, in a way he didn’t think he’d ever recover from.

He needed Steve in his bed and in his life, so he had to do better. He had to do better for the blond man sleeping at his back, who was slowly tucking his feet into the legs of Tony’s pajama pants in an unconscious search for warmth. He had to do better for his boyfriend, who’d encouraged him to finally leave the weapons game behind, who gave him a kind of unwavering support that he’d never imagined could exist. And he had to do better for himself, so he didn’t always feel like Steve was getting the short end of the stick in their relationship; he wanted to be someone his tiny terror could count on as much as Tony relied on him.

As long as he got this at the end of the day, as long as he got to come to bed with the love of his life who he officially – official in a ‘we’re in this together’ kind of way – lived with, Tony could do better. With Steve Rogers in his bed, drooling just a little and making soft little noises that he did not call snores if he valued his life, Tony was pretty sure he could do just about anything.

Even turn off his brain and drift off to sleep himself, and not wake up again until it was almost noon.


End file.
